


Small Blessings

by labellelunaclaire



Series: AUgust 2020 [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Single Parent, Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labellelunaclaire/pseuds/labellelunaclaire
Summary: Day 20 — Single ParentCrowley shows up at Aziraphale’s bookshop after disappearing for five years.But he’s not alone.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Series: AUgust 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860763
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: AUgust 2020





	Small Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is one of my favorite fics so far this month. I’m very pleased with it. It was the only thing I wantes to write the past week when my mental health was #Bad.

Crowley tapped on the steering wheel of the Bentley nervously. He checked the mirrors. He glanced in the back seat. Everything was safe and sound and as it should be. There was no danger following them. Just a normal evening in Soho.

He didn’t know how Aziraphale would react to him showing up here. It had been five years since he’d last seen the angel.

Five years since he disappeared without a trace.

He glanced in the backseat one last time to make sure all was well, then took a deep breath and got out of the car, making sure all of the doors were properly locked.

He crossed the street anxiously, looked back at the Bentley every few seconds until he reached the door to the bookshop, took another deep breath, and knocked.

He waited for several painstakingly long minutes before he knocked again.

And then again.

And then again.

Until finally, the door opened.

“I’m sorry, but we are  _ quite _ \- Crowley?” an annoyed, clipped voice said before dissolving into confusion and excitement.

“Hey, Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured with a little wave.

“Crowley, where on Earth have you  _ been?” _ Aziraphale asked, opening the door wider.

He looked exactly the same. Same coat and pants and stupid tartin bowtie.

Crowley had missed him so much.

“It’s a long story,” Crowley said, glancing nervously back at the Bentley. “I need your help.”

“Anything, my dear,” Aziraphale promised quickly. “Please, come in, come in. I’ll find us a bottle of wine.”

“No wine,” Crowley told him. “And,  _ ngk… _ I need to grab something from the car first.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised. “Of course, dear boy. Anything you need.”

“Okay,” Crowley said. “Alright… I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Crowley dashed back to the car and let out a sigh of relief that everything was exactly the way it was when he left it a few moments ago.

He opened the back door and gently scooped up a bundle of blankets laying on the back seat.

The blankets moved as he did.

“Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Crowley cooed, cradling the bundle with the utmost care. “I’ve got you.”

The thing inside of the blankets curled itself against Crowley’s neck and shoulder.

Crowley tried to ignore the way Aziraphale’s eyes grew wider and wider the closer he got to the bookshop door. Tried to act like everything was perfectly normal and this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said carefully. “Crowley, is that… a  _ child?” _

The child in Crowley’s arms clung closer to him, clutching at his shirt with shaking fists.

“I told you, it’s a long story,” Crowley said, glancing around the street for any sign of danger. “Can we come in, or not?”

Aziraphale shook his head, as if clearing it, and then stepped aside. “Yes. Yes, of course. Come in.”

* * *

“Would, ah… would either of you like some tea?” Aziraphale asked awkwardly as Crowley set the little blond child down on the sofa, adjusting the blankets around him. “Or hot cocoa?”

“Do you want some hot cocoa, Adam?” Crowley asked the child, but the little boy was too busy staring at Aziraphale with big, fearful eyes. His arms tightened around a little stuffed duck.

Crowley looked over his shoulder to see what Adam was staring at, then back to the boy. “That’s just Aziraphale,” he told him gently. “Remember? I’ve told you about Aziraphale. He’s daddy’s friend. He won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide.  _ Daddy’s friend. _ He was so very confused by this entire situation.

“Crowley, my dear, can I speak with you for a moment in private?” he asked, eyeing the child and then tilting his head towards the kitchen.

Crowley nodded at him and then looked back at the child. “Daddy’s going to talk with his friend, Adam,” he said gently. “Do you want to play games on my mobile?”

The child nodded and Crowley pulled out a sleek black mobile phone and handed it off. The little boy began tapping away at the device, and Crowley smiled fondly and kissed him on the head before standing and following Aziraphale into the kitchen.

Once they were out of Adam’s sight, Crowley leaned heavily against the counter and ran a hand through his hair, which was shorter than it had been the last time Aziraphale had seen him. He looked far more tired as well, with dark circles peeking out from beneath his sunglasses.

They stood for a moment in silence. Until, finally, Aziraphale couldn’t not hold back anymore.

“Crowley, what in the world is going on?” he asked quietly, trying not to let his voice carry back to the other room. “Who is that child? Where have you been for the past five years?”

Crowley gave a heavy sigh and removed his glasses, setting them on the table and pressing his eyes with his fingers. There was a distinct tension in his posture that Aziraphale wasn’t used to seeing in the demon.

“That’s Adam,” Crowley said softly, finally looking up at Aziraphale with those golden eyes that he’d so sorely missed these past five years. “He’s… well, he’s my son.”

Aziraphale’s heart suddenly dropped somewhere around Earth’s mantle.

“What do you mean,  _ son?”  _ he asked. “With  _ who?” _

He tried not to sound hurt.

(He didn’t succeed.)

“It’s not… ugh!” Crowley groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair again. “It’s not like that, Angel.”

“Then what  _ is _ it like, Crowley? You’re not making any sense.”

“He’s,” Crowley started, and then paused to look back through the doorway to the sofa where Adam was still happily playing games. “He’s the antichrist, Angel,” he said, dropping his voice down low.

“The  _ antichrist?!”  _ Aziraphale gasped as full volume.

Crowley surged across the room and clamped his hand down over Aziraphale’s mouth, casting an anxious look back at Adam.

“Keep your voicssssse down,” Crowley hissed, looking incredibly upset. “He doessssssn’t know.”

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley removed his hand.

“Crowley, what have you  _ done?” _ Aziraphale demanded quietly. “How do you have the antichrist?”

“Look, five years ago, I was called for a meeting with two dukes of Hell,” Crowley explained quickly and quietly. “They handed me a basket with a baby and gave me instructions to take him to a hospital and have him swapped with some diplomat’s son. But I couldn’t go through with it, Angel. I just couldn’t bring on the end of the world like that.”

“You kidnapped the son of Satan to prevent Armageddon?” Aziraphale clarified.

“Yes,” Crowley said. “At first, I thought about just chucking the whole basket out the car window, be done with it right then and there, but…” He trailed off, his eyes falling to the floor in memory. Then he looked back up at Aziraphale with such vulnerability that it made Aziraphale’s heart ache. “He was so tiny and helpless, Angel. I couldn’t do it. You know I’ve always liked kids, ever since Eve let me hold Cain.”

“Yes, and look at how well  _ that _ went, Crowley,” Aziraphale pointed out sharply.

Crowley winced as though Aziraphale had physically struck him. “That was  _ not  _ my fault, Aziraphale,” Crowley said firmly. He snatched his glasses off the counter and put them on his face. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll figure something else out.”

He turned on his heels to leave, but Aziraphale caught him by the hand and spun him back around.

“Crowley, no,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

“And I’m trying to explain it!” he said angrily, louder than he’d probably meant to.

“That boy in there is everything to me,” he continued, quieter but still seething with anger. “I’ll do everything in my power to protect him.”

“Daddy?” a little voice asked from the doorway.

Aziraphale and Crowley both turned their heads to see Adam, staring at them with the mobile in his hands.

Crowley’s entire demeanor changed immediately.

“Hey, my little sapling,” Crowley said in a calm voice, rushing to Adam’s side and kneeling down at his level. “What’s wrong?”

The little boy rubbed his eyes. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know, my love,” Crowley told him, enveloping the child in his arms and stroking his golden hair.

“Are we going home?” Adam asked with a yawn.

Crowley froze and looked conflicted as to what to tell him.

“You’re going to stay here tonight, Adam,” Aziraphale found himself saying, locking eyes with Crowley and giving him a little nod.

Crowley picked the little boy up, balancing him on his hip.

“What do you say to Aziraphale, Adam?” Crowley asked his son encouragingly.

“Thank you,” Adam said quickly, ducking his face into Crowley’s neck as soon as the words were out.

* * *

Crowley followed Aziraphale to his bedroom, Adam’s head still resting against his shoulder.

The room was small and neat, exactly how Crowley would have imagined it if he’d ever allowed himself to imagine Aziraphale’s bedroom. Not that the angel did much sleeping, but like Crowley had a fridge filled with gourmet food he didn’t eat because it seemed like something he  _ should _ have, Aziraphale had a bedroom with a bed.

“Make yourselves at home,” Aziraphale said, somewhat nervously hovering in the doorway.

“Thank you, Angel,” Crowley responded, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting Adam down beside him. “Let’s get those shoes off, sapling,” he said to Adam, tugging the little trainers off his feet and setting them on the floor.

Adam yawned, his blue eyes heavy. It wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep tonight.

“Sing, daddy?” he asked as he crawled over to lay his head on a pillow, his Duckie held tight in his arms.

Crowley maneuvered the blankets out from under him and tucked Adam in tightly. He glanced nervously at Aziraphale, then settled down low in the bed, gently stroking Adam’s hair. His eyes immediately began to flutter closed, and Crowley began to sing  _ Under Pressure _ in a quiet voice.

As he expected, it didn’t take long for Adam’s breathing to slow, his arm relaxing slightly around Duckie.

Crowley carefully removed himself from the bed, trying to shift the mattress as little as possible. He looked over at Aziraphale, who was still standing in the doorway, a silhouette against the light coming in from the other room. He walked past the angel, feeling mentally and physically drained and collapsed heavily into a chair in the flat’s sitting room.

“Leave the door cracked,” Crowley said as Aziraphale made a move to close the bedroom door. “He’s afraid of the dark.”

Aziraphale nodded and left the door partially opened so that the warm light of the cozy little sitting room could seep in.

“So what is your plan here, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked quietly as he came and sat in a chair nearby. “You said you needed help.”

Crowley rubbed at his eyes, slouching even lower in his chair. “I don’t know, Angel,” he admitted. “Do you think I’ve had a plan this entire time? It’s been terrifying. We move around frequently, any time I think that Hell might be close to finding us. It’s exhausting, and I don’t dare to use anything more than minor miracles in case someone is keeping tabs on me still.”

“And I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you just… handing the boy over?”

A flash of anger surged through his body. “He’s not just some object, Aziraphale,” he snapped. “He’s my son. I’ve raised him since the day he was born. I’d rather throw myself into a bathtub full of holy water than give him to Hell.”

“Alright, alright,” Aziraphale aquiested, holding his hands up in a placating way. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure that you do, actually,” Crowley bit back at him. “If you understood what it was like to raise a kid, you wouldn’t even dare suggest sending him into Hell’s clutches. I thought angels were supposed to understand love.”

Aziraphale looked hurt by that comment. “Crowley, I  _ do _ understand love!”

“Not like this. Clearly.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m just worried about you, Crowley,” he explained. “I’m worried about what will happen to you if you’re caught.”

“Do you think I’m not? I worry every day about what could happen. But I can’t just worry about myself anymore, Angel. I have to worry about Adam. I’m the only parent he’s ever known.”

They sat in silence for a few long moments. Crowley wished he could tell what the angel was thinking.

“So…” Aziraphale began quietly. “Why Adam?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“That name, I mean,” Aziraphale clarified. “Why did you name him Adam?”

Crowley shrugged. “Cain didn’t seem like a very good omen,” he joked darkly. “And… I don’t know. First man, and all. Adam made his own decisions, even if he did blame Eve for it. And it’s a pretty normal sounding name. Wouldn’t stand out. Seemed right.”

Aziraphale nodded in understanding. “It’s a good name,” he admitted.

“He’s a good kid.”

“How can I help you?” Aziraphale asked. “I… you’re my best friend, Crowley. I want to help any way that I can.”

Crowley looked up at him wearily, unsure. “I just… I just needed somewhere safe,” he said. “I’m so tired of running, Angel. I’m worried that something might happen if I keep trying to go like this.”

“You’re always welcome here, my dear,” Aziraphale told him, leaning closer. “You’re my best friend, Crowley. I’ve missed you.”

Crowley squirmed uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Don’t get all sentimental, Angel.”

Aziraphale smiled softly at him. “Why don’t you sleep as well, my dear?” he asked. “You look like you could use it.”

Crowley wanted to argue, make some witty quip about how he always looks fabulous, but anything he might have said died on his tongue. He  _ did _ need sleep. There was a deep exhaustion in his bones. The idea of getting to fall asleep without fear for the first time in, well… five years was so inviting, so  _ tempting, _ that he couldn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Alright. I’ll… yeah.”

He stood and stretched, feeling his joins extend a pop.

“Sleep well, my dear,” Aziraphale said as Crowley headed towards the bedroom. “We’ll speak more in the morning.”

Crowley raised his hand in a half wave and disappeared into the room, kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket on the bedside table, and settled himself into the bed next to Adam.

He fell asleep quickly, the comforting and familiar feeling of angelic energy permeating the entire room and settling whatever was left of his tattered soul.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a non-zero chance that I continue this. As in, I basically have more ideas (especially for the next chapter), I just need to sort out a plot for a full fic.
> 
> If/when I _do_ continue it, it’s going to be after AUgust is over, and after I finish working on a WIP that I spent real, actual money on research materials for. So it’ll be a hot minute. Be warned.


End file.
